The London I Almost Missed

Tower Bridge, London

The first time I visited London, almost twenty years ago, it felt like a whirlwind.

A stopover on a much larger adventure through the French countryside over Easter. A girls trip. I was young then. Young enough that international travel still felt improbable. Like something that happened to other people, not me!

I remember the train from Gatwick to Victoria Station. The blur of brick terraces and unfamiliar suburbs. The nervous excitement of stepping into a city I had only ever seen on television screens and movie sets.

Waterloo Tube Station

And then there was the Tube. My first Tube ride.

The now-famous “Mind the Gap” announcements echoed through tiled stations and curved tunnels deep beneath the city. Londoners moved with purpose around me, weaving effortlessly through corridors and platforms while I tried desperately not to look lost.

I was completely out of my depth. Thank goodness I wasn’t doing it alone.

Back then, London felt enormous. Not just in size, but in significance. Every corner seemed to reveal something I recognised.

The Houses of Parliament stretching along the Thames. Big Ben rising above them. Buckingham Palace, St Paul’s Cathedral, Piccadilly Circus, No. 10 Downing Street.

The city unfolded like a highlights reel. One famous landmark after another.

I was seeing London. But I wasn’t yet understanding her.

Later that year, while living in Dublin, I’d return. These time to visit friends and explore beyond the major tourist trail. I discovered quieter neighbourhoods, local pubs and hidden corners that never make it onto postcards.

Yet even then, I don’t think I truly appreciated London. Not in the way I do now.

This visit felt different. Perhaps because I was older. Perhaps because I no longer felt the pressure to see everything. Or perhaps because this journey wasn’t really about London at all.

It was about reunion.

About friendship.

About reconnecting with Canadian friends who had long ago become family.

London simply became the backdrop to our story. And what a backdrop she was.

I heard my name before I saw her. A screech across the forecourt. The Tower of London watching us on one side and the river Thames rolling quietly beside us on the other.

Then came the tears. The years between us vanished in an instant.

As travelers, we often talk about destinations. Rarely do we talk about the people who become intertwined with them. Yet now, whenever I think of London, I know I will think more of the memories made with friends and the way that made me feel.

Not a building. Not a monument. A reunion. Moments shared together in a place familiar, but unfamiliar, all the same.

Lunch beneath Tower Bridge felt almost surreal.

I realised I was paying attention to it differently than I would have twenty years ago. Back then, I would have snapped a photo and moved on. This time, I found myself lingering, noticing the details. The steel framework hidden beneath decorative stone. The walkways suspended high above the river. The stories embedded within the structure itself. Its twin towers that rise above the river, Cornish granite and Portland stone, designed deliberately to complement the nearby Tower of London. In photographs it appears elegant. Almost delicate. Standing beneath it, it’s its sheer scale and strength that you appreciate the most.
I find myself fascinated by the people who imagined something so ambitious and then somehow brought it to life. The engineers. The labourers. The dreamers. The thousands of individuals whose names are largely forgotten but whose work remains - in reality probably people not much unlike me, except London was the full time backdrop in their life.

London is full of that. History hidden in plain sight. The city invites curiosity, rewards wandering. Encourages you to look deeper in places.

And so I did.

A morning walk through Paddington led me around the main station and along its peaceful canals lined with narrowboats and flower boxes. Here, the city softened. The pace slowed.
It felt less like London the global capital and more like London the neighbourhood. The London of dog walkers and morning coffees. Of cyclists commuting to work. Of people simply living their lives.

At times I felt less like a tourist and more like an extra in somebody else’s film. The kind of character who appears briefly in the background of a scene. Walking along a canal. Crossing a bridge. Sitting alone with a coffee.

The story belongs to somebody else, yet for a moment you are part of it. That feeling followed me throughout the city.

In Covent Garden as stallholders rolled up shutters. Along Embankment as commuters hurried toward offices. Inside cafés where breakfasts were enjoyed and conversations drifted between tables.

For a few days I wasn’t simply visiting London. I was living inside her rhythm.
Watching the city perform itself from within.

The great plane trees along Victoria Embankment stretched overhead, their mottled bark peeling in patches like old paint. Many were planted during the Victorian era. Some have stood watch over the Thames for more than a century.

Beneath their canopy I caught my first glimpse of Big Ben. Again. Or more accurately, the Elizabeth Tower.

The name “Big Ben” technically belongs only to the thirteen-tonne bell housed within. A detail I had somehow never learned despite seeing it countless times.

The tower itself gleamed in the morning sunlight, its intricate Gothic detailing highlighted in gold. Completed in 1859, it has become far more than a clock tower. It is London’s heartbeat. A symbol of resilience. A witness to wars, celebrations, coronations and change. And standing there beneath it, I wondered how many millions of people had experienced that exact same moment of awe.

How many first-time visitors had stopped in their tracks. How many Londoners had walked past without looking up.

The Houses of Parliament stretched beside it, their honey-coloured stone reflected in the Thames below. It is difficult to comprehend that much of what stands today was rebuilt following the devastating fire of 1834.

The architecture feels ancient. Timeless.

As though it has always existed.

Perhaps that is part of London’s magic. Time behaves differently here. The centuries sit alongside one another.

Roman walls.

Medieval churches.

Victorian train stations.

Glass skyscrapers.

All sharing the same skyline.

Walking through Whitehall, I found myself thinking about those who had walked these same streets before me. Monarchs, Prime ministers, Military leaders, Courtiers, Messengers carrying news that would change history. How many conversations occurred here that altered the course of nations? How many ordinary people crossed paths with extraordinary events?

History in London never feels distant. It feels close enough to touch. The feeling intensified as we walked along The Mall toward Buckingham Palace.

I found myself wondering how many royal processions had travelled this route. How many state occasions. How many celebrations. How many farewells. I had watched many of them on the TV. From the comfort of my couch, but being here. In this moment as i walked alongside my friends, i could feel the ghosts of those moments. I could see the people lined streets. The waving of the little union jack flags. Almost feel the emotion of the occasions. And yet, it was just another ordinary London day with people going quietly about their business.

Queen Victoria watched over it all from her vast memorial outside the palace. White marble gleaming against the sky. She sat there with a commanding presence that seemed entirely fitting for a woman whose reign spanned more than sixty years and reshaped Britain forever - Strength. Duty Resilience. Standing there, I found myself reflecting less on royalty and more on endurance. What it means to continue showing up year after year.
Generation after generation.

The very thing London herself seems to embody and I guess resonated with me and my connection to the farm back home. Endurance. Persistence. Trust. The constant amongst the everyday battles. In truth it probably exists in every place if you look hard enough.

By afternoon, the familiar grey skies arrived. Rain swept across the Thames as we made our way to Shakespeare’s Globe. The reconstructed theatre stood proudly along the riverbank, a tribute to the original playhouse where Shakespeare’s works were first performed more than four hundred years ago. I imagined audiences gathering here centuries earlier.

Laughing. Cheering. Sharing stories beneath an open sky. Storytelling has always connected people. Perhaps that is why I loved it so much. Not because of Shakespeare. But because of what it represented - Human connection. The same thing that had brought me back to London in the first place.

Cream tea at the Swan was a perfect breaker. A chance to sit back and take everything in that had engulfed me over the past 48 hours since I had departed Melbourne. Missed flight in Dubai included. But i had found myself here. Reminiscing with old friends. Reconnecting. Building new memories.

Cream Tea comforts at The Swan

The Scones.

The Jam.

The Cream

The perfect metaphor of this trip. The scone, the perfect trustworthy base. Just like London herself. Jam, the sweet reward of connection and reconnection. And the cream. The perfect extra reward that comes with being able to share all these moments, no matter how big or small with those that mean so much. The pinch myself moment where your honestly ask, ‘is this really my life?’.

Outside the rain had began to clear. Umbrellas had been put away and London began to glitter under the refreshing cleanse. Crossing Millennium Bridge toward St Paul’s Cathedral, Sir Christopher Wrens masterpiece rose ahead of us. Its enormous dome dominating the skyline exactly as intended. Built following the Great Fire of London in 1666, St Paul’s became a symbol of resilience long before resilience became fashionable. It survived the Blitz. It survived centuries of change. It remains. And standing in its shadow, I felt the same thing I had felt throughout much of this visit - perspective.

The reminder that we are all temporary visitors. Passing through. Adding a page or two to our own story while cities like London continue writing theirs.

Tomorrow we would leave for the countryside. The pace would slow. The roads would narrow. The landscapes would change. But London had given me something unexpected.

The first time I came here, I collected landmarks. This time, I collected understanding. I learned that London is not defined by Big Ben or Buckingham Palace or Tower Bridge. Those are merely the illustrations. The real city exists in the layers beneath them. In the people. The stories. The history. The friendships. The ordinary moments unfolding amongst extraordinary surroundings.

And for a few precious days, I wasn’t simply visiting London. I was part of her story too.

Discovering Your Own London

Because everyone’s journey is difference and one person’s London is never quite the same as another’s.

Some people come for the history. Others for theatre, food, royal landmarks, football, shopping, museums or simply the chance to wander streets they’ve seen in movies their entire lives.

My London (during this most recent trip) was found in reunions with friends, morning walks along quiet canals, people-watching beside the Thames and finally taking the time to understand the stories behind the landmarks I’d rushed past years earlier.

If you’re planning your own visit, here’s what I learned:

• Best Time to Visit

Truthfully, I don’t believe there is a bad time to visit London.

Each season reveals a different side of the city.

Spring brings blossoms to the parks and longer daylight hours. Summer fills riverside pubs, outdoor events and bustling streets. Autumn paints London’s parks in rich golds and reds, while winter brings Christmas markets, festive lights and cosy afternoons escaping the cold in centuries-old pubs.

The only thing you can reliably predict about London’s weather is that it will probably surprise you - Sometimes several times in the same day.

• What to Wear

Layers. Always layers. Even on sunny mornings.

London weather has a habit of changing its mind halfway through the day. During my visit I experienced sunshine, grey skies and rain showers all within a matter of hours.

Comfortable walking shoes are essential. London is one of the world’s great walking cities, and you’ll discover far more on foot than you ever will from a bus or taxi.

A rain jacket or a small umbrella won’t hurt either.

• Where to Stay

My advice is simple: stay somewhere connected to a Tube station.

The London Underground makes the city surprisingly accessible, and staying near a station often matters more than staying near a specific attraction.

Areas like Paddington, South Bank, Covent Garden, Kensington and Bloomsbury all offer very different experiences depending on your travel style and budget.

The beauty of London is that no matter where you stay, you’ll likely stumble across something interesting just around the corner.

We stayed at St David’s Hotel in Paddington. Think beautiful old row house building, warm and welcoming reception, cosy rooms and stairways and corridors that whisper their own stories as you pass through. Close to Paddington station for both tube and district trains. Home to the Paddington Bear walk and loads of shops and restaurants to cater for everything you need from a great hotel location.

• Getting Around

The Tube remains one of London’s greatest achievements.

As overwhelming as it felt during my first visit, it is ultimately the easiest way to navigate the city. Use a contactless bank card or digital wallet and simply tap on and off.

Don’t be afraid to combine Tube rides with walking. Some of my favourite discoveries came while wandering between destinations rather than travelling directly to them.

And if you hear “Mind the Gap” for the hundredth time, congratulations. You’re doing London properly.

• Don’t Miss

Of course, you’ll want to see the classics.

Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.

Buckingham Palace.

Tower Bridge.

St Paul’s Cathedral.

The Tower of London.

But don’t stop there.

Walk along the canals through Paddington and Little Venice. Spend time wandering Covent Garden before the crowds arrive. Sit beside the Thames and simply watch the city go about its day. Cross Millennium Bridge toward St Paul’s Cathedral. Pause beneath Tower Bridge rather than simply photographing it.

And if you find yourself staring up at a building wondering who walked these streets before you, stay a little longer. That’s where London begins to reveal herself.

• Safety

London is generally an easy city to explore, even for solo travelers. Like any major city, remain aware of your surroundings, particularly in crowded tourist areas and on public transport.

Keep valuables secure and be mindful of distraction thefts around busy attractions.

Most importantly, trust your instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, move on.

The city is large, but it’s also remarkably welcoming.

• Something a Little Different

Here’s my favourite suggestion.

Choose one famous landmark. Just one.

Then spend an hour exploring the streets around it. Not racing to the next attraction. Not checking maps every five minutes. Simply wandering.

Sit on a bench. Watch commuters rush past. Duck into a café and enjoy some of London’s finest Cream Tea’s or go the whole nine yards and order yourself a fully fledged Devonshire Tea.

Follow a side street. Look up.

The first time I visited London, I was determined to see everything. This time, I learned that London’s greatest treasures are often found in the spaces between the landmarks.

The city has stood for centuries. She isn’t going anywhere. Slow down and allow yourself the opportunity to discover your own London.

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